


Happy As Before Am I

by gwyllgi



Series: Herc/Raleigh Bingo Challenge [16]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwyllgi/pseuds/gwyllgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh is a brat who doesn't know not to mess with a man's beer.  Fortunately, he also knows how to make up for it.  <i>Herc didn't spit out his beer, but it was a near thing.</i></p><p>Written for the Herc/Raleigh Bingo Challenge prompt: Beer</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bingo Card

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, _Mischievous Joy_.
> 
> For lack of anywhere better to put it, the first chapter is my bingo card. Click on through to chapter 2 for the fic.


	2. Happy As Before Am I

Herc didn't spit out his beer, but it was a near thing. He swallowed his mouthful, then set his bottle on the table and pushed it away. "Are you trying to kill me, Raleigh, or do you just hate me?"

Raleigh was laughing into his own beer with no sign of repentance for what Herc was hoping was just a prank—there was no other reason for Raleigh to give him the swill he had, especially as he'd gotten himself something on tap that looked far more appealing in its frosty glass. "You wanted to try American beer," he said, the laughter gave lie to his innocent tone. "That's American beer for you."

Herc snorted and grabbed Raleigh's glass—as he'd suspected, it was a far better brew than what Raleigh had brought him. "You're an ass," he grouched. "I'm keeping this; you can have that."

Raleigh shook his head. "Thanks, but I think I'll just go get something else." He headed back to the bar with a swagger, to all appearances quite proud of himself.

Such a little shit.

Herc took a long pull from his stolen glass as he watched Raleigh talk to the bartender, all easy charm. It was a far cry from the quiet man who'd arrived in Hong Kong, a far cry, too, from the brash kid he'd been in Manila. He'd grown into a good man, far better than Herc deserved—though he knew Raleigh would argue that point.

"You're thinking too hard." Raleigh settled at the table again and scooted his chair close enough to be able to sling his arm over Herc's shoulders. "I could hear you from the bar."

"Could you now?" Herc slanted a glance at Raleigh, but didn't bother trying to shake off his arm—the last thing he needed was Raleigh's look of disappointment. He lifted his glass to his mouth, only to wear beer when Raleigh jostled him. "Oi," Herc snapped as he set the glass down again with a thunk, but, before he could turn, Raleigh's mouth was at his ear.

"We should get you out of those wet things, Marshal." He was so close that Herc could feel his smile against the curves of Herc's ear, and Herc reflexively tried to twitch away—without success as Raleigh's arm tightened. "Finish your beer."

Herc arched an eyebrow, though the effect was lost given Raleigh lips were still nuzzled up against his ear. "You're giving the orders now, Ranger?"

"Now? Yes." Raleigh's breath warmed the line of Herc's jaw before he pulled back. Herc would never admit that he missed the loss of Raleigh's arm around his shoulder. "Later... Maybe not. I don't mind when you're in charge."

Herc turned to look at Raleigh, studied the shine of Raleigh's eyes in the dim light of the bar. "You don't mind? But you don't like it."

Raleigh laughed. "I never said I didn't like it." He reached for his glass, tipped it up and drained it while Herc admired the smooth, shifting lines of his throat as he swallowed. He set the empty glass down and reached for Herc's, nudged it toward where Herc's hand rested on the tabletop. "Finish your beer."

Herc regarded Raleigh for another long moment, but surrendered to the inevitable—resisting Raleigh was as useless as singing down the moon—and lifted the glass to finish off the small measure of beer left in it. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he set it down again and pinned Raleigh with a flat look. "Anything else, Ranger?"

Raleigh shook his head and rose, grabbed Herc's jacket from the back of his chair and offered it to him. "Back to the hotel. Put your jacket on so your sensitive Aussie ass doesn't catch a chill, and let's go."

"Piss off," Herc grouched, but shrugged into the jacket nonetheless; it was twelve degrees out if he was lucky, and the hotel was a decent walk away. "How did you manage to survive growing up here?"

Raleigh shrugged and headed for the door, held it as Herc stepped through, then fell into step beside him as they walked back to the hotel. "This is nothing. You should come back in winter when we get highs of five—which is, what... fifteen below for you? Never mind the wind chill. If you're not the insanely-outdoors type, you stay inside a lot and... well, there are a lot of babies come September." He bumped his shoulder against Herc's, then sneaked his hand into Herc's jacket pocket to twine their fingers together. "I'm glad you're here, anyway.'

Herc squeezed Raleigh's hand. "I am, too—shitty beer aside. Was that really necessary?"

"No, but it _was_ funny. Your face when you tried it..." Raleigh chuckled and shook his head. "I wish I'd had a camera. You looked like someone had given you moose piss to drink."

"Moose piss would've tasted better," Herc muttered, but it was without heat; Hell, it wasn't like he'd never taken the piss out of bubbas in the RAAF, and Raleigh hadn't meant any harm. "You're planning on making it up to me."

It wasn't a question, but Raleigh nodded anyway. "All night, if that's what it takes." He crowded into Herc, nuzzled briefly behind his ear. "Where would you like me to start?"

Herc leaned against the press of Raleigh's body, refusing to give ground; they were of a size, and he wasn't about to let Raleigh walk _all_ over him—just a little. "Gotta get you out of those clothes, first. They look a little constricting." He pulled their hands from his jacket pocket to knock them against Raleigh's hip. "You felt like painting them on today?"

Raleigh laughed. "You know what's under them. What's the point of being modest now?" He swung their hands up to brush his lips over Herc's knuckles. "And when I'm naked?"

Herc considered, carried them another half-block in silence. "Touch yourself. Anywhere you want. Show me how you like it."

"You know how I like it," Raleigh said, and there was a gratifying hint of breathlessness to his voice. "You want to watch me jerk off, is that it?"

Herc hummed, then abruptly crowded Raleigh against a darkened storefront. The lights of the hotel were visible the next block up, but they were too far to go without a sample of what Raleigh's mouth was promising. "I want to watch you jerk off," he agreed, leaned in to murmur the words flush against Raleigh's lips. "I want to watch you stroke yourself—not just your dick, but everywhere that makes your breath catch. I want to watch you tear yourself apart." He pulled his hand from Raleigh's to rub his palm over Raleigh's crotch, laughed softly when Raleigh's cock swelled within the confines of his jeans. "You like the idea."

"Shit, Herc," Raleigh said as he turned his head to find Herc's mouth, only to be denied when Herc pulled away. "You're killing me."

"Not yet." Herc stuffed his hands back into his pockets as he resumed the walk to the hotel and fought the urge to whistle. He was nearly at the hotel doors before Raleigh caught up, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, something Herc didn't bother questioning. He smirked as they stepped into the elevator, eyed the frustrated twist of Raleigh's lips, and drummed his fingers against the rail as he watched the floor numbers climb.

In all honesty, he was surprised Raleigh managed to wait until Herc had keyed the door open before he pounced—but he wasn't about to complain, not when Raleigh was pressing him against the door and licking into Herc's mouth as though Herc were ambrosia. Shitty beer was a small price to pay for what they shared—and Herc would gladly pay it a thousand times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [sorrowfulcheese](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrowfulcheese) for the super beta. Any lingering errors are mine, naturally.


End file.
